Fractured Mirror
by FrozenClaws
Summary: For two completely different people, it takes the horrific experience of the reality show "Hunger Games" to find themselves and understand each other. New chapter every Friday.
1. Author's Note

**Author's Note: **

**Hello fellow fanfiction-ers…**

**fanfictioners?**

**fanfictionees?**

**fanfic…?**

**Hello fellow people!**

**I will be updating this story every Friday so be sure to follow the 82****nd**** Hunger Games! (this **_**is**_** an independent story, not a collaboration. All the characters are mine.)**

**I am an aspiring author so feel very free to leave reviews/criticism, even if it isn't constructive. Any opinions are welcome **** (Especially any spottings of grammatical mistakes. I always try to keep gramaticohl mishtaeks 2 a minininumn.)**

**As lists it as a law (?) that a chapter cannot simply consist of an Author's Note, here's a little sampling of the first chapter – the whole thing will be released next Friday! **

**If you like this, please invite fellow Mockingjays to also follow my fanfiction! **

**And to settle a few unsettled minds, I can assure you I will finish this fanfiction! Promise **

**Stick around!**

**-FrozenClaws**

The pale skinned girl stayed beneath a canopy of a shop as she watched the trickling rivers of teenagers fill the swarming lake in the middle of the town square. She tugged down the sleeve of her ugly pink dress. The sun was shining too brightly for her liking. Ayn couldn't even hide from the sun's unrelenting heat in the shade. She wished her sleeves were longer so she didn't have to worry about her arms getting barbecued.

"Hurry Ayn," Jessica said, pushing past her. "If you're not there on time, you might get shot."

"I know, I know."

Ayn's pale skin was extremely sensitive and she got rashes if it got too hot. She had prescribed cream to prevent it from happening but she was still always wary of the sun. Despite it being the most important day of the year, it was habit. She'd stay out of the sun until the broadcast began.

"Join your age group!" a muffled voice shouted. A metal tip dug into her back and shoved her forward.

Or not.

She winced as the sun glare blinded her. In the momentary whiteness, she slammed into a body.

"Hey there, watch your step," a voice said.  
She recognized that voice. Recognized it very well.

Ayn recoiled. Her vision returned, she glared at the tall boy. Perfect hair. Perfect eyes. Perfect body.

"You alright?" he asked with a mocking smile. Perfect plastic smile.

"I'm _fine,_" she hissed. Before he could say anything else, she walked away as quickly as she could.

She made sure she had made it a good distance away from him and then began looking for her friend. She spotted the familiar head of long black hair. She ignored the hushed whispers and giggling as she pushed through the teenagers to Tala.  
Tala saw her and mouthed a greeting.

"Just ignore them," Tala said when they were finally side by side.

"That's what I've been doing these last-" She fell silent as the tall boy with perfect hair walked in front of them.

"-years," she finished. The words were thick with bitterness.

"You still blame him," Tala sighed.

"Sorry," Ayn said, "I know you love him."

"Not love!" Tala hushed. "Don't say that out loud!"

Ayn smiled as she pried Tala's hand off her mouth. "Fine, not love. Just a huge, huge," she dropped her voice to a whisper, "crush."

Ayn had to fight off another pair off flailing arms from an embarrassed Tala. They sobered as the mayor began his speech. Ayn's smile died. Only Tala could act so shameless on a day like this. Despite the fact that Tala had a huge family and took rations for her six siblings every year, she didn't seem worried at all.

Ayn was uncomfortable among the quiet group of 'seventeens'. Couldn't the mayor get on with it already? Everybody had heard his speech before, they didn't want to hear it again. She told herself to ignore him and hope the best for Tala instead.

"And now for our escort, Mr. Harris!" the mayor finally announced.

They were going to choose the names now. She turned to Tala and tried to give a reassuring smile, but Ayn's hands were also shaking. She clasped her hands together as an attempt to stop the trembling.

District Seven's permanently pissed escort sauntered onto the stage. Nelson Harris was probably the least enthusiastic escort there was. He constantly acted like he woke up on the wrong side of the bed and had what seemed like a permanent scowl on his face. At least today he was wearing sunglasses, Ayn thought. Normally one could see Nelson's eyes, which disturbingly had no pupils or irises. Strangely as an escort, it was the only feature that he had ever had surgically altered. He skin was a normal tone, pale peach, and his long hair was a natural dark brown. Nelson was also strangely young for an escort, probably still in his teens. Also, strangely, Nelson was never enthusiastic or glad about anything. But overall, Ayn thought, Nelson was simply strange.

Nelson sighed loudly and grabbed the microphone.

"Hello, citizens of District Seven," he said in a bored tone. "The Hunger Games have finally come. Cheers."

He reached in a glass orb and drew a name, not bothering to announce if it was the boy or girl tribute. The orbs were labelled anyways. One thing the citizens had to love about Nelson, he didn't care to embellish the horror of the selection.

"Gorgeous Tellins," Nelson stated bluntly. However, from his arched eyebrow, you could also tell he was surprised by the extravagant name.

Ayn's head snapped up. Gorgeous? Of all people? Sure, she didn't like him, but not so much that she wanted him to die. She realized this was the first year that she actually knew the tribute. She started to feel pity for Gorgeous, almost feeling that her hate for him was ridiculous. _Almost_.

Ayn wasn't the only one who was surprised. Almost all the teenagers were muttering with astonishment. Gorgeous' reputation of being…well, him, was known throughout. The teenager Ayn had hated so much made his way up the stage with a surprisingly easy-going attitude. No one could see the storm of emotions that was going through his head. He could mask his feelings so well.

He was smiling with such a relaxed confidence, Ayn almost stopped pitying him.

"You're Gorgeous Tellins?" Nelson asked drily.

Gorgeous gave a perfect plastic smile and said, "My friends just call me Gorgeous, Mr. Harris."

"Sure, whatever."

Ayn would have grinned but Gorgeous was going to fight for his life in a few days. She looked at Nelson. Maybe his pessimist behavior was just because he realized that too. As Nelson picked the female tribute, Ayn shook the thought out of her head. How could she be contemplating over the escort's behavior when her friend could become a tribute? Then her eyes widened. Tala could be sent into the arena with…Gorgeous. Tala's normally optimistic and calm air was broken. She was shaking so badly, Ayn could see her trembles. She looked as if she could pass out any second.

Unlike most of the "fans" Gorgeous had, Tala genuinely cared for him. She wasn't just one of those girls were shrieked his name at odd times, she actually thought that he was a great guy.

Tala's horror was so apparent, Ayn felt as if she _had_ to do something. She gripped Tala's quivering hand. Tala couldn't be chosen, Ayn thought. She hadn't been chosen for the past five years-why should that change this year? Her name was among the million pieces of papers there were. Still, Ayn couldn't help but panic as Nelson reached into the second glass orb. She tightened her grip.


	2. Chapter 1: Scales

**Hello readers!**

**Frozenclaws here :)**

**As promised, here's Chapter 1!**

**Hopefully (?) it fulfilled expectations but I know it isn't exactly action packed. *sweat drop***

…**Not much to say except:**

**Hope you enjoy! ^ ^**

**Chapter 1: Scales**

The pale skinned girl stayed beneath a canopy of a shop as she watched the trickling rivers of teenagers fill the swarming lake in the middle of the district square. She tugged down the sleeve of her ugly pink dress. The sun was shining too brightly for her liking. Even in the shade, she couldn't hide from the unrelenting rays. She wished her sleeves were longer so she didn't have to worry about her arms getting barbecued.

"Hurry Ayn," Jessica said, pushing past her. "If you're not there on time, you might get shot."

"I know, I know."

Ayn's pale skin was extremely sensitive and she got rashes if it got too hot. She had prescribed cream to prevent it from happening but she was still always wary of the sun. Despite it being the most important day of the year, it was habit. She'd stay out of the sun until the broadcast began.

"Join your age group!" a muffled voice shouted. A metal tip dug into her back and shoved her forward.

Or not.

She winced as the sun glare blinded her. In the momentary whiteness, she slammed into a body.

"Hey there, watch your step," a voice said.  
She recognized that voice. Recognized it very well.

Ayn recoiled. Her vision returned, she glared at the tall boy. Perfect hair. Perfect eyes. Perfect body.

"You alright?" he asked with a mocking smile.

"I'm _fine,_" she hissed. Before he could say anything else, she walked away as quickly as she could.

She made sure she had made it a good distance away from him and then began looking for her friend. She spotted the familiar head of long black hair. She ignored the hushed whispers and giggling as she pushed through the teenagers to Tala.  
Tala saw her and mouthed a greeting.

"Just ignore them," Tala said when they were finally side by side.

"That's what I've been doing these last-" She fell silent as the tall boy with perfect hair walked in front of them.

"-years," she finished. The words were thick with bitterness.

"You still blame him," Tala sighed.

"Sorry," Ayn said, not very sincerely, "I know you love him."

"Not love!" Tala hushed. "Don't say that out loud!"

Ayn smiled as she pried Tala's hand off her mouth. "Fine, not love. Just a huge, huge," she dropped her voice to a whisper, "crush."

Ayn had to fight off another pair off flailing arms from an embarrassed Tala. They sobered as the mayor began his speech. Ayn's smile died. Only Tala could act so shameless on a day like this. Despite the fact that Tala had a huge family and took rations for her six siblings and parents every year, she didn't seem worried at all.

The sun blazed overhead and Ayn was uncomfortable among the sweating seventeen-year-olds. Couldn't the mayor hurry on? The speech was the same every year and almost everybody could recite it by heart.

"And now for our escort, Mr. Harris!" the mayor finally announced.

They were going to choose the names now. She turned to Tala and tried to give a reassuring smile, but Ayn's hands were also shaking. She clasped her hands together as an attempt to stop the trembling.

District Seven's permanently pissed escort sauntered onto the stage. Nelson Harris was probably the least enthusiastic escort there was. He constantly acted like he woke up on the wrong side of the bed and had what seemed like a permanent scowl on his face. At least today he was wearing sunglasses, Ayn thought. Normally one could see Nelson's eyes, which disturbingly had no pupils or irises. Strangely as an escort, it was the only feature that he had ever had surgically altered. He skin was a normal tone, pale peach, and his long hair was a natural dark brown. Nelson was also strangely young for an escort, probably still in his teens. Also, strangely, Nelson was never enthusiastic or glad about anything. But overall, Ayn thought, Nelson was simply strange.

Nelson sighed loudly and grabbed the microphone.

"Hello, citizens of District Seven," he said in a bored tone. "The Hunger Games have finally come. Cheers."

He reached in a glass orb and drew a name, not bothering to announce if it was the boy or girl tribute. The orbs were labelled anyways. One thing the citizens had to love about Nelson, he didn't care to embellish the horror of the selection.

"Gorgeous Tellins," Nelson stated bluntly. However, from his arched eyebrow, you could also tell he was surprised by the extravagant name.

Ayn's head snapped up. Gorgeous? Of all people? Sure, she didn't like him, but not so much that she wanted him to die. She realized this was the first year that she actually knew the tribute. She started to feel pity for Gorgeous, almost feeling that her hate for him was ridiculous. _Almost_.

Ayn wasn't the only one who was surprised. Almost all the teenagers were muttering with astonishment. Gorgeous' reputation of being…well, him, was known throughout. The teenager Ayn had hated so much made his way up the stage with a surprisingly easy-going attitude. No one could see the storm of emotions that was going through his head. He could mask his feelings so well.

He was smiling with such a relaxed confidence, Ayn almost stopped pitying him.

"You're Gorgeous Tellins?" Nelson asked drily.

Gorgeous gave his perfect plastic smile and said, "My friends just call me Gorgeous, Mr. Harris."

"Sure, whatever."

Ayn would have grinned but Gorgeous was going to fight for his life in a few days. She looked at Nelson. Maybe his pessimist behavior was just because he realized that too. As Nelson picked the female tribute, Ayn shook the thought out of her head. How could she be contemplating over the escort's behavior when her friend could become a tribute? Then her eyes widened. Tala could be sent into the arena with…Gorgeous. Tala's normally optimistic and calm air was broken. She was shaking so badly, Ayn could see her trembles. She looked as if she could pass out any second.

Unlike most of the "fans" Gorgeous had, Tala genuinely cared for him. She wasn't just one of those girls were shrieked his name at odd times, she actually thought that he was a great guy.

Tala's horror was so apparent, Ayn felt as if she _had_ to do something. She gripped Tala's quivering hand. Tala couldn't be chosen. She hadn't been chosen for the past five years-why should that change this year? Her name was among the million pieces of papers there were. Still, Ayn couldn't help but panic as Nelson reached into the second glass orb. She tightened her grip.

"Tala Uniwara," he announced.

Recalling the incident later, she was never able to figure out how she had let go of Tala's hand. She had turned to ice. The people around her must have separated them. A terrified hand and a pale, corpse-cold hand.

Somebody would volunteer. There were a lot of girls that adored Gorgeous, right? She mentally slapped herself. Would some ditsy girl risk her life to spend time with a dude she thought was hot? Of course not. But somebody had to volunteer! What would happen to Tala?

_If you want somebody to volunteer so badly, _her mind said, _why don't you volunteer yourself?_

Ayn watched her friend as she took her first step on the wooden stairs to the stage.

_I mean, you don't even like Gorgeous, it'd be a lot better if you killed him instead of Tala, _her mind said.

_Shut up!_ she told her mind, _This isn't just about Gorgeous. My life would be at stake, too!_

But so was Tala's.

"Is anybody willing to volunteer?" Nelson asked, as he was required to.

She was about to vomit her hammering heart out of her chest.

"Anybody?" Nelson prompted.

Ayn caught Tala's eyes. She didn't recognize any of her friend in those eyes. They didn't have a single light of happiness or eagerness. They didn't have the single shadow of anger or sorrow or even fear. They were blank. It looked like Tala had been possessed by a spirit, or if she was…

Ayn heartbeat quickened.

…already dead. The scales of indecision quivered.

"Here are your…" Nelson said.

Tala's life or her own. One scale or the other.

"…District Seven tri…"

One realization. If it weren't for Tala, Ayn might already be dead. Suddenly, the scale tilted.

"I volunteer!" Ayn exploded.

Ayn barely registered the murmurs and exclamations of shock. Her gaze was fixed on Tala. Tala's eyes were overcome, first, with sheer surprise. Then, gratefulness. Finally, as Ayn made her way to the stage, sadness.

"It's alright, Tala," Ayn tried to reassure her. "I'll be fine."

Tala tried to talk, to reply, but her voice didn't work. Ayn forced on a smile.

"I'll be fine," she repeated. It sounded like a lie, even to herself.

"Your name?" Nelson asked.

Ayn swallowed, she had to accept reality.

"Ayn Oris," she managed to say.

She, Ayn Oris, was a tribute in the Games.

Nelson gestured for them to shake hands. She forced herself to look at Gorgeous' perfect eyes as she shook his hand. Just as a show for the cameras that she wasn't a wimp. His brilliant turquoise eyes had a strange look. Startled, she quickly drew away her hand and cast her gaze to the floor.

"Your tributes, folks," Nelson said. "Now get going, the fun's over."

Did she see…fear? She turned to check but Gorgeous had turned around and she could only see his ebony tresses.

"To the train," Nelson said, gesturing her to follow.

What was that strange expression she had seen in his eyes?

**Whee! Chapter 1 fin!**

**I hope you enjoyed that and…**

**Please review / critique / insult my story!**

**Stay tuned (or can you only use that for tv shows O.o) for next Friday for Chapter 2. **

**I'll be updating every Friday so hopefully you stay along for the ride :P**

**(If you did enjoy this, I do have a few other Hunger Games fanfics if you're interested. They're all one shots so don't worry whether or not they're time consuming.)**


	3. Chapter 2: Eyes and Smile

**Heys everybody!**

**How you doing?**

**Anything interesting happen of late?**

Okay! Here's chapter 2, as promised.

**Not much to say but…come back next week! New chapter every Friday!**

**Chapter 2: Eyes and Smile**

Ayn and Gorgeous sat on opposite sides of the train station. Ayn couldn't help but watch him. Those fearful eyes hadn't matched his confidence. Now, Gorgeous looked…tired. Just tired. His elbows were on his knees and his head was buried into his hands. Both of them looked up as his parents came by. Ayn hadn't ever seen them before. They both had stringy, wild hair and stained clothing. She couldn't but note how different they were from their son. Rats' nest of hair. Impeccable waves. Fidgety nervousness. Indifferent calm.

"Gorgeous!" his parents squealed.

Ayn's eyes widened. They sounded…_excited_.

"This is your chance to become Panem's leader!" his mom cried.

What was she saying? Suddenly, Ayn felt uncomfortable. This was something she should not be listening to. She was able to shut out Gorgeous's quieter voice but his parents were just too loud.

"All of our teachings will come to fruition!" his father said, almost laughing. "You'll finally overthrow Pres-"

"Shh!" It was Gorgeous. He said something.

His father giggled. "You're so smart. We can't let anyone else hear our secret, right?"

There were some bright flashes. Ayn took a tentative look back. They were taking pictures. He was shining a perfect plastic smile. Their gaze met suddenly.

His eyes looked as terrified as Ayn felt.

His parents gave a quick farewell and scurried away. Ayn could see why. A huge mob of people from their school was closing around Gorgeous. Right before the bodies closed over his face, he held up one finger and held it front of his lips. Those scared eyes looking straight at her.

Shortly after the mob had arrived to ambush Gorgeous with teary kisses, Tala had come by. With her hand tightly intertwined with Tala's, they both watched the huge throng of people surrounding Gorgeous. There weren't many words exchanged. Not much had to be said. Ayn's own parents hadn't come to see her off. She didn't really blame them. She felt simple beaded bracelet underneath her sleeve. Farewells were too painful.

Tala probably would've left already too, as she couldn't say anything without bursting into tears, but she wanted to say bye to Gorgeous. Her free hand was wound tightly into a fist. Probably wrapped around some farewell token for him.

The two friends sat in silent, watching as the noisy mob slowly, oh so slowly, disappeared, finally leaving Gorgeous alone. Ayn gave a nod of encouragement as Tala approached him. Ayn turned as she heard footsteps. She didn't recognize the girl. Wait…she did. It was Jessica. She had also come by to wish Gorgeous a farewell.

"Jessica" she said, starting to stand up. "I didn't-"

Her words were cut off by a deafening smack. Ayn doubled over and felt her stinging cheek carefully.

"I get you hate Gorgeous, but do you want to kill him! You're even more of a freak than I thought you were."

"That's not…" Ayn tried to protest.

"Shut up, _mutant_."

A Capitol officer came to chase her away. Couldn't let the precious tribute get hurt before she got into the arena. Jessica quickly left, but those words echoed through the silence long after she had gone.

The officer walked towards her and gestured her to stand. The train had come.

Tala hurried to her before she left. She slipped something into Ayn's hand with a one sentence. "Please accept it."

"Gorgeous!" Ayn yelled, throwing her hands down on the table. Gorgeous snapped awake, slamming his head against the wall and knocking his shin into the table. He groaned, rubbing his leg.

"That's gotta leave a bruise," he muttered. He had forgotten Ayn was there until she clouted his already sore head.

"Dude, I was asleep," he groaned, rubbing his head.

"I'm not kidding, Gorgeous, this is serious."

Her tone _was_ deadly serious. He blinked the sleep out of his eyes and his gaze fell on a silver wolf pendant.

"Wait, that's…"

"Yeah, that's Tala's! Why didn't you accept it!" she shouted angrily.

"Calm down, Ayn…"

"Why should I calm down! I…"

"I won't be able to explain-slash-argue rationally with you if you're this furious."

She tried to settle her anger with deep breaths.

"Why…didn't…you…take…it?" Ayn asked, struggling to pace her words.

"Are you sure you can listen?" he asked, raising an eyebrow with an obvious skeptical air.

"Y-!" she paused. "Yes, Mr. Perfect, now can you answer my question? Or do I have to repeat it again?"

"Nah, I'm cool," he said. "I didn't take it 'cause…"

He paused, debating whether he should tell her the truth.

"We don't have all day," Ayn said impatiently.

"You're so vociferous," he muttered.

"What!" Ayn exclaimed, more in her frustration to hold in her anger.

He sighed, more loudly than normal. If he was going to be stuck with this girl until he died, it'd be better if he told the truth. It'd be too tiresome to keep up a façade with her. Especially when that someone was as abrasive as Ayn.

"I don't want a token because it'll remind me too much of home," he said. "When I'm in the arena, I don't need any memories of my district with me."

"Aw…" Ayn said, with mocking puppy eyes and an oh-my-god-what-a-sweet-boy expression on her face. Then as quickly as she had put on the face, she glared at him.

"That is _soooo_ sweet, Gorgeous," she crooned icily. "Nice story you got. Go and pretend I'm Caeser. Say what will get all the Capitol girls to scream at you. You're pathetic."

She shoved the door open ready to storm out.

"Wait!" Gorgeous exclaimed.

She stopped.

"You're not…scared of me, are you?" he asked.

Ayn was confused. It was as if he had already forgotten about her outburst. "Scared, why?"

"You saw my…um, my parents."

"What parents?" Ayn said softly. In one brief movement, she put one finger in front of her lips. Then, her spite returned. "I'm not _scared _of you. I just hate you."

"What!" he exclaimed as she slammed the door shut.

She hated him. He smiled. He was certain Ayn wouldn't tell anyone about his parents. After all, if anyone figured out his parents' plan, despite how insane it was, he didn't know what the Capitol would do to them.

Even though he was comforted in the fact that Ayn only hated him, he still didn't understand why. Why would she hate outer-Gorgeous? If anything, he was perfect.

He shook the confusing thoughts out of his head and settled to go back to sleep. Before he shut his eyes, he caught a silver glint from the corner of his eyes. He rolled over on his side and held the wolf pendent on his palm. Ayn had left it on the table.

"You do have great friend, Tala," Gorgeous said softly. "Even if she'll probably hate me for the rest of my life…which probably isn't gonna last that long."

And with that optimistic thought, he sighed and fell, surprisingly, easily into a nap, the wolf pendent pinned on the collar of his shirt.

**Hope you liked that! **

**I know it was kind of short and I'll try to write more in each chapter. **

**Tune in next Friday for chapter 3 :) **


	4. Chapter 3: Dream City, City of Nightmres

**Hello! For the few following my story, you might have noticed that my chapters have been posted on Thursday…and I said before my chapters would come out on Friday – I will offer a quick explanation for that: **

**If I post on Thursday, then whatever time on Friday you check out my story, there will be a new chapter. Even if you wake up at 4 o'clock, my story will be posted :P (also, I'm worried that I'll fall behind on schedule and posting on Thursday will give me a one day cushion :P)**

**Anyhoos! Here is this week's chapter. It's a tad bit of a throwaway but action and conflict is coming soon!**

**Chapter 3: Dream City, City of Nightmares**

"Tellins!" the turtle shouted.

"I'm not a tomato!" Gorgeous exclaimed.

His leg jumped and slammed into the table. He groaned and leaned over, laying his head on the table.

"That is definitely going to leave a bruise."

"Come on," the turtle's voice said. Gorgeous tilted his head up, his chin still on the table, and gazed up at his escort.

"The recap of the reapings is going to play. The mentors want you to come watch."

"If I can walk," Gorgeous muttered, teetering to his feet. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes.

"Don't be a child, come on," Nelson said bluntly. He walked away.

His shin crying in pain, Gorgeous followed.

"What are those tables made out of?" Gorgeous asked. He waved to their two female mentors as he settled onto a couch.

"Mahogany. Known for its rich color and sturdiness."

"Mahogany," Gorgeous groaned, hugging his leg to his chest.

The Capitol logo flashed and spun on the television screen. The show opened, as it did annually, with the president giving a speech. Bad memories surfaced. A young boy being held in front of a television. Insistent angry whispering. _Do you see this? This is _your _future! Your future! _ Any denial was met with furious reprimanding. He'd be grabbed and shaken. Unhinged emotion in their eyes. There would be angry red marks on his shoulders by the end of the day.

As President Snow finished his speech, Gorgeous unconsciously pulled his shirt sleeves down. The red hands couldn't be seen by anybody but Gorgeous. He temporarily shut out the young boy and looked to the screen. A few people stood out. The tall, pale haired boy from district two. He held himself with a particular quiet composure that the rest of the vying tributes didn't have. Gorgeous noted he was probably more dangerous than he appeared. From district four was a muscular raven-haired girl. It was the one of the rare times that there were no volunteers from the Career districts.

The tall boy from District Two. The dangerous girl from District Four. A wispy twelve-year old boy from District Ten. The hollow eyed, emancipated girl from Twelve. Did he stand out at all?

After the broadcast was over, Nelson breathed a long sigh and sunk into the couch.

"Did we really do that bad?" Ayn asked.

Not bad, Gorgeous thought, they did well. He had a pretty good read on Nelson by now.

"No," Nelson said. "You two are prettier than most of the tributes this year. Only makes it that much harder to meet expectations at the chariot ride. Jeez…"

"I'm not pretty," Ayn said, interrupting Nelson's lament. Her statement was blunt. She wasn't being modest, just stating her honest opinion.

"Even if people back in your District think you aren't the most beautiful peach in the tree, the Capitol citizens already love your look. So many expectations…"

"You sound enthusiastic," Ayn said sarcastically.

"Even if I hate the Games, it's my job to keep you two alive," Nelson replied. He rubbed his forehead with another sigh. "Lives are a big responsibility. So far I haven't been able to handle that responsibility."

"Why are you even an escort then?" Ayn asked.

Gorgeous raised his eyebrow. He hadn't dubbed Ayn as the talkative type. She never talked at school. Well, at least around him. She was turning out to be a great interrogator.

"Family trade," Nelson said. The two words were bitter. "Now get out of here, both of you, I have to find out how to best utilize your prettiness. You can talk with your mentors."

Obediently, Gorgeous and Ayn followed their mentors to the dining car. The table was stuffed with rich foods and exotic scents floated through the air. Gorgeous knew most of the dishes – turkey, caviar, succulent bread, among other things – but some were completely strange. There was a black pudding lathered in clumpy green sauce. He would be sure to avoid it.

They sat down and introduced themselves. His mentor was a tall, athletic woman with a short, smart haircut. Ayn's mentor was a curvaceous woman who had won sponsors with her charming interview. The tributes were both seventeen-year-olds. One was as white as a ghost. The other was bright with color; hair as black as raven feathers and eyes like the sea.

Dana Ellajay. Taryn Blaise. Ayn Oris. Gorgeous Tellins. As usual, his name raised eyebrows.

In this case, more than raised eyebrows. Dana turned out to be more outspoken than the norm. "What possessed your parents to name you _Gorgeous_?"

Gorgeous flashed a winning smile. "I was such a beautiful baby, they couldn't help themselves."

"Is that so?" she asked.

"I can assure you," he said.

"Hungry?" Taryn implored.

He didn't particularly want any food but he took a meager plate with a chicken drum and a few fruits. Ayn flatly refused.

"I know it's difficult to digest right now, but you should eat something," Taryn said to Ayn.

Gorgeous held out a strand of grapes to her.

"Are you supposed to give us some advice right now?" Ayn asked, ignoring him.

He plucked off one of the rejected grapes and popped it in his mouth.

"What's coming up is the chariot ride, not much for us to do. If there's anything, listen to your stylist. Cooperate. Whether he or she is lame or amazing, you don't know any better," Dana said. "Oh, and listen to Nelson. He doesn't seem very competent but he has been studying his line of work for at least six years now…"

"Nine years," Taryn clarified.

"Yes, nine years. Studying almost a decade now," Dana corrected herself. "We'll help you with the training and the interview when it comes. For now, you just need to be aesthetically interesting and both of you are."

The train had been running so silently, Gorgeous barely noticed when it stopped. The soft hum of the wheels had stopped.

"Are we already there?" he asked.

"Yes, but we're not entering the city yet," Dana said. "We're District Seven so there are a few trains that need to arrive before we get started. Right now, we're stopped outside the city. When Twelve arrives, all the trains will file in and you can say hello."

"Go to sleep," Taryn lightly instructed. "Twelve will be here in the morning."

Gorgeous changed out of his suit and into a dark blue nightgown with colorful planets. It looked ridiculous. Before he went to sleep, his grumbling stomach realized that the chicken drum and grapes hadn't been enough. He walked through the dark corridor of the train back to the dining car.

"Ayn?" he asked.

She looked up, like she'd been caught stealing silver candlesticks. She muttered, "Taryn was right."

Gorgeous loaded a plate alongside her. It was very dark. None of them knew how to turn on the lights. It was silent for a few minutes until –

"Nice pajamas."

He studied his act of whimsy. "They're absurd."

"You're not acting like you usually are," Ayn said.

He looked back at her. "How do I usually act?"

"I dunno," she said, finding a newfound interest in her bowl of mashed potatoes. "Smiling. Cracking jokes. Arrogant. Not…quiet."

"I'm not much a talker," he replied.

She scoffed. "Yeah, sure."

"No cameras," he said simply. "I don't have to act perfect."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

It dawned on him that he had unintentionally let this girl know more about him than his entire posse knew. "Noothing." He jabbed his thumb at the closed train window. "You want to see the Capitol?"

"Can we?" she said hesitantly. She'd almost forgotten they were right outside of the city. They'd only seen the city on television before. Soaring skyscrapers, flashing candy colors, foundations of gold and silver.

"Dream City, City of Nightmares," he mused. He walked to the window and waved her over.

Sleepiness and his down-to-earth attitude let Ayn forget momentarily. Forget the time beneath the tree.

She followed.

He slid aside the black curtain and there was an explosion of gold light. The light held within the hands of the Capitol citizens reflected off their laughing eyes and ashen faces. For a moment, Gorgeous stared in shock at the sheer number of the strange aliens. He in the shadows was able to see the illuminated. They didn't catch a glimpse of him.

He heard a thud. "Ayn?"

He flung the curtains shut and kneeled beside her. "Ayn! What's wrong?"

Her voice was quieter than the still night air. "There's so many of them. Did they see me?"

She was already back on her feet. Gorgeous grabbed her wrist before she was able to flee.

"I don't think so," Gorgeous said, "but don't be scared, they're just – "

"Let go!" She flung him off and left the car.

He had always known Ayn to be shy, but the way she reacted…  
He imagined the chariot ride. Tributes suspended in the air, above thousands more than the people outside the train. Trapped in the air. No way to escape. No way to run away.

A white dove chained by the metal eagle.

**Just for some clarification for the people that didn't understand the last sentence, the "white dove" is Ayn and the "metal eagle" is the Capitol, because their 'logo' is an eagle on a metal seal. **

**Hope you enjoyed!  
(Wait…I think there's another chapter…click on that next button!)**


	5. -Bonus Chapter: Liberation Day-

**Two chapters in one week, whaaat?**

**Well, this isn't really a chapter but it is another little bonus story for all of my readers. **

**This is a random July 4****th**** inspired one shot from Nelson's point of view. (He's my story's escort if you don't remember :P) **

**Here's a bonus chapter and for those who celebrate, Happy Fireworks!**

**Bonus Chapter: Liberation Day**

I gingerly enter the room. Strobe lights and electronic beats pulsate and charge hearts so the lethargic bodies can dance and celebrate.

It is Fourth of July. Liberation Day.

Most days here, people trudge through the days like they're immortal. Whether it's trying out new fashions or foods, barely any living goes on here. There's only ever two occasions of celebration in the Capitol. The Hunger Games and Liberation Day. Both are two huge ironies.

For the Hunger Games, we celebrate the deaths of twenty-three children. Liberation Day, we celebrate the oppression of millions. Of everything we choose to celebrate, we choose these two days. We have a wonderful sense of festivity, don't we?

Earlier, I was forced to come to this party. My family forbade me from sulking at home when I could be out drumming up support for District Seven. Escort business is competitive, after all. If I did not come to the party, I would be sulking at home. Now, I can sulk at a party.

At the far side of the club, I spot an empty space on the wall. I shove my way through dancers and try to reach my destination. Normally my appearance draws attention but most people at the party are drunk or high. I have to avoid several drug distributors before I break free from the sweating mass of bodies.

I sit against the wall, right next to a couple who are very passionately making out. It's very awkward. They seem drunk, so I just grab one of them, a boy with spiked lavender hair, and shove him into the crowd. The girl stumbles after him.

I check the clock. Maybe I should stay for a few hours and then go home. Though I'm not sure if that's long enough to convince my family that I've "properly integrated myself into the social norm".

"Hey! Why you moping?" a high-pitched voice interrupts my sulking.

I think about ignoring my greeter but decide to humor her. "No reason. You?"

"I'm not moping!" She squeals with laughter. "You're Nelson Harrison, right?"

"Right you are."

She has bright yellow hair that is tied into a large bow above her head. Multicolored jewels are set into her arm in various swirling patterns. She grins a neon pink smile. Curiously, she doesn't seem to be affected by the stupefying substances which possess the majority of the party.

"Do you have the inside scoop on this year's Hunger Games? The arena? The tributes?"

Goodness, nobody knows what an escort does. I just guide the tributes. I teach them how to walk in high heels. Really, people think I run the entire Games. If I did, the Tribute Building would be razed already.

I reply, "Actually, yes I do. The arena this year is a very large pillar that rises about three thousand feet above the ground. They're debating on the arena name but the most popular name right now is 'Ruler of the Mountain'. It'll be a furious battle of pushing. The last one to be pushed off will be deemed the winner and 'Ruler of the Mountain'. District Seven's female tribute is named Petunia Nefferfurt and she has three arms. The male tribute is Horace Hukumdorf. He's eight feet tall."

She stares at me for a moment with a confused expression. Her lemon yellow eyebrows are knit and she seems to be thinking very hard. Then, she breaks out in a pink smile. "You're joking with me! Right?"

"Yes, I am. Horace is only seven feet tall."

"I knew it! You can't fool me though. You're also joking about the arena. We've never had something like that before."

Quickly, I decide I want my solitude again. "Let's forget about the Hunger Games for a moment. Today is Liberation Day, yes? The day the Dark Days end and the Capitol is freed from rebelling factions. Interesting note, Fourth of July is also the day an ancient civilization called the United States of America was freed from oppression. They deemed Fourth of July their Independence Day. What a coincidence, don't you think? Not many know about it because our schools don't bother dabbling in history anymore. The Americans, as they were called, sought emancipation from a great world power called Great Britain. For their freedom, the American Revolution was fought. A fascinating war but not a very creative name, I must say. Anyways, Thomas Paine – "

"That's really interesting!" Ms. Sunshine pipes up.

"Yes, I think so too."

"I'm going to dance now!"

"Sponsor District Seven! Unnecessary advertising!"

She is already scurrying away. She swiftly snatches up a few shots of wine before disappearing into the crowd of dancers.

**Hope you enjoyed!**

**Happy Fourth of July! Even if you don't celebrate it, why not? Happy Everyday :P**

**Come back next Friday!**


	6. Chapter 4: Suspended Over Seas

**Here's chapter 4!**

**I want to say thanks to the few followers I have now :)**

**Not much to say…hope you enjoy!**

**Chapter 4: Suspended Over Seas**

The next morning, Ayn was shaken from her nightmare of a thousand fluorescent hands tearing her skin away. Her downy comforter was ripped away.

"Time to wake up, sweetness," a monotone voice said.

"Yes, Mr. Harrison," she mumbled. She obediently rose from her bed.

The trains started up again, guiding them through the city. While Gorgeous stood at the window to wave at the Capitol citizens, Ayn hid in the corner of the car. She was thankful that, for now at least, a metal wall obscured her from the massive crowd. Their train stopped in front of the Tribute Building. Ayn could only take a few seconds to marvel at the towering structure before she was ushered inside.

Hastily, Ayn grabbed the thin white robe and wrapped it around herself. She had just undergone an extensive procedure to perfecther body. From her silken her hair to her perfectly polished toe nails, she had been washed, scrubbed, and plucked. All around, she felt like she had just been dissected. On the other hand, her stylist team were acting like children at a candy store.

"You look so beautiful!" Hamlin exclaimed.

"Like a goddess!" Odalys quickly followed up.

Maeko let out an excited shriek of agreement. Compliments were strange and Ayn wasn't sure how to reply. They seemed too shallow minded to be sarcastic. In this outrageous world of neon hairdos and bejeweled skin, maybe she fitted right in. She couldn't say it comforted her.

She managed a reply to the Trio, "Thank you."

"Well, of course!" Odalys said. "Your clothes weren't expensive at all. How did you afford the surgical procedure?"

"Oh, no, no. It's all natural."

He tilted his head. "Your skin is so white. Not to mention your pink eyes. It can't be natural."

She smiled slightly. Maybe not _natural_. "It's a, um, genetic abnormality."

He seemed like he was going to reply when the Trio simultaneously exclaimed "Oo!"

"I think your stylist is here!" Hamlin said excitedly.

They rushed to the door to welcome my stylist. A young woman with electric blue hair spun into a spiraling bun walked in. Her skin had a particular glimmer, as if silver glitter was surgically applied to her skin. Ayn looked at her outfit. A floor-length, white gown with sleeves that dropped to the floor and a high oriental collar. It was fairly modest.

"Oh! How precious!" High-pitched Capitol inflection tilted her words. "You're even lovelier in real life. Come?"

Ayn followed her into another room where there were large armchairs overloaded with cushions. They sat across from each other and her stylist examined her like she was a rare gem. "Gorgeous is a rather lovely specimen but I'm confident we will outshine him."

Ayn wet her mouth. "Wh-what does my outfit look like?"

She hoped she had one.

"Oh! It's lovely! But I won't ruin it. It's going to be a surprise! Oh, alright, I'll give you one hint. I'm going back to the 70's of the Games. Do you remember? Fire was all the rage."

Oh no. District Seven was the lumber district. What was she going to be dressed as? A log on fire?

"Oh! I'm so sorry," she said. "My name is Karila. Your name is Ayn. We'll obliterate that gorgeous boy. Get it? Pun?"

Ayn smiled wearily. "Yeah, I got it."

Moments later, Ayn was one among the twenty four tributes awaiting for the chariot ride. Well, twenty three. She didn't know where Gorgeous was. Ayn could hear the low roar of the crowd outside the room. Her heart hammered inside her chest.

She turned her attention to her outfit in order to tune out the thousands of people below her feet. She was clothed, at least. The dress had a bodice of ebony wooden texture that faded into a powdery fall of white ash. The slight touch of red indicated burning wood. Karila had fallen into a lengthy explanation of the story behind the dress but Ayn barely remembered any of it. It was something with the phoenix rising from the ashes. She wasn't sure on Karila's promise that they'd "obliterate" Gorgeous. The outfit, though elegant, was hardly flashy at all and faded in comparison with the other tributes' chariot costumes. District One's tributes, for example, were literally dressed in a million tiny diamonds. Part of Karila's explanation also included something about how Capitol fashion was annoyingly ostentatious.

Turns out she had done well in distracting herself. District One's chariot was riding out into the air. The roar of the citizens exploded beneath her feet and Ayn felt dizzy. Her vision was already bad but were things supposed to be spinning?

A sudden hand on her shoulder snapped her out of her daze. She looked to the owner of the hand and nearly stumbled in surprise. "What the hell are you wearing, Gorgeous?"

His outfit was a spiraling vortex of silver blades. Clear harnesses strapped around his body held the blades to his body. The manner in which the blades were placed provided absolutely no modesty.

He pulled her forward and she registered the camera crew following them.

"My stylist made a wonderful chariot costume for me," he said with a charming smile.

"You said your outer space pajamas were ridiculous. You've got to be kidding me."

"You look beautiful too, Ayn," he said pleasantly.

_This _is what he acted like. She didn't know who was on the train with her last night, but this was the Gorgeous she knew. Clueless, insufferably charming, and fake plastic smiles.

She ignored his help onto the chariot. He laughed as they stepped on. "Don't stand too close, Ayn, I might just cut the pretty tree down."

And there were the jokes.

District Five's chariot moved out.

Ayn heart leapt out of her chest and she seized the closet thing – Gorgeous' arm. There was no floor beneath them. Only a rippling wave of millions and millions of heads. A sea of flailing limbs. Screams rose from the deafening roar of the sea. The huge screens were currently dominated with images of the tributes of District Five.

Ayn heard herself say the words. "I can't do this."

"You'll do fine, Ayn."

"I have to leave."

She was shaking like a willow tree in the wake of a hurricane. Her legs were completely numb.

District Six left.

Her legs would give out any moment. Fluorescent hands flashed in the air and grabbed for her. She had to leave. How could she leave? If she scaled the chariot tracks and…

Gorgeous glanced at the screens projecting the faces of the District Six tributes. "Ayn, listen."

"No, I have to move quickly. If I – "

"Ayn!" He grabbed and shook her shoulders.

"W-what – " Her eyes were large with bewilderment.

"Jesus, Ayn, listen to me." His voice was low and he spoke hastily. "You have a ridiculous amount of makeup caked on your face. I can barely recognize you. The people behind us, _they _won't recognize you. You are not Ayn to them. You are just another tribute. Besides, you are next to me. I am a practically naked mass of godforsaken _swords. _All the cameras? They'll be on me. Not you. _All the cameras will be on me. _You can't leave, Ayn. The Games have already started. You want to live? Well, start now. _Survive._"

_Survive. _

Their chariot moved out.

"Some advice? Stare at the horses. They're lovely creatures."

She let go of Gorgeous' arm. Then, she stared at the swaying heads of the equestrian animals. She learned to ignore all the people at school. She would shut them out now. With practiced concentration, the screams lessened to a dull hum far far away. Their horses were a deep redwood brown and their manes were braided with dried grapevines. She imagined them nickering to each other. What would they say to each other? What did horses say?

She smiled. Wondering what horses were saying…she must be delirious. Still she imagined the conversation. She named the one on the left Earl and the right one Alby.

_Earl: What is this they put in our hair?_

_ Alby: They seem to be dead leaves. _

_ Earl: Dead leaves? What purpose do they serve?_

_ Alby: They smell funny. Perhaps it is incense to keep away bugs. _

Before Earl could reply that that was ridiculous, there were no bugs in the Capitol, Ayn felt a hand on her shoulder. "We're done, Ayn."

**Thanks for making it to the end :P  
Come back next Friday for a new chapter. **


	7. Chapter 5: Reveal

**It's Friday! :D**

**Whee! So this is a pretttty importante chapter :)**

**Hope you enjoy!**

**Chapter 5: Reveal**

Ayn, Gorgeous, their stylist teams, their mentors, and Nelson stood around the table, grabbing food. Everyone was congratulating each other for the large splash they made at the chariot rides. Karila's smile was stiff around Gorgeous' stylist, though. Gorgeous must have been brilliant. Ayn wasn't sure what was going on, but they had probably done well. She was one step closer to…

To what? She hadn't thought she had chance of winning. Now? Maybe she did. She wasn't physically fit but not all the victors of the Games possessed athletic prowess. She was a freak at District Seven, but here she might able to win over the Capitol's freakish heart. Within the mad, dark, twisting labyrinth of the Games, she could see a faint golden thread. A small thread of hope. That's all she had, but it was something. It was enough for now.

"Gorgeous is finally here," Nelson said. "Let's go watch the rerun."

Gorgeous smiled sheepishly and pulled on his jacket. "Sorry, my costume was a ***** to get off."

"Gorgeous!" Ayn said, astonished.

"What? It's not like I'm filmed in here."

Everyone congregated around the television. The Capitol seal spun on the screen and then cut to the tributes behind the stage. In several shots, Gorgeous was smiling and waving to the cameraman. One could barely see Ayn standing nervously in the background.

Then, the camera zoomed upward, through the ceiling. It swept over the swarms of rippling colors along vast expanse of the City Circle. With a start, Ayn remembered all the colors were people. Wave upon wave of colors. Even when she saw them in the chariot, she didn't realize just how many there were.

District One with their twinkling diamonds rode out by the time Ayn was rushed out of the room. How stupid could she be? Winning over the heart of the Capitol? Try millions of hearts. She couldn't convince millions to support her in the Games. She was an outcast. She had always been an outcast. Did she really ride above _all of those people? _She was _seen _by all of them. Ayn turned the doorknob to her room. Her hand was shaking.

"Ayn!" a voice shouted.

One of them had found her!

No, they couldn't get in here. She remembered.

"Jesus, Ayn, what's wrong?"

"It's nothing."

Gorgeous looked at me with a skeptical eyebrow. "Try saying that again. With all the insincerity you can muster."

"There were just _so many _people. I-I've never been good around crowds. I didn't realize how many people were watching us."

"They aren't here anymore," he said. "They're just images on a screen."

"But it…it _happened. _You can't understand."

"You're right I don't understand. Will you let me help you? Why are you so scared of them?"

"Why am I so scared?" she demanded. The time under the tree flashed before her eyes. In her terror of discovering all the people, she had forgotten.

"Yes. I mean…they're just _people._"

All the pain Ayn felt boiled to resentment. She was almost shouting. "Why am I so scared? Of just _people? _You're pretending you don't know?"

"I don't!" he insisted. "Am I supposed to know something?"

Ayn wanted to laugh. At the ridiculousness of it.

"Just go," she said.

"Ayn – "

"GO!"

Ayn ripped open the door and slammed it shut.

He ended her living as a human back at home and it'd be the same thing here. Ayn finally figured out why Karila was so bitter at the dinner table. Her as a burning tree. Gorgeous as the deadliest ax. It'd take an idiot not to see the story Gorgeous' stylist was trying to tell. Gorgeous would decimate and cut her down. She wasn't rising from the ashes. She was falling back into them. Gorgeous would be sure of that.

She didn't know how much time had passed before he returned. "Ayn?"

Ayn opened her mouth to shout at him to get away.

"Before you yell and wake the heavens, it's not Gorgeous. It's Nelson. Remember? Your escort."

Confusion calmed Ayn down. "Nelson? What are you doing here?"

"I'm your escort. Among Escort 101, it's one of my responsibilities to help my tributes _not _go insane. It's actually in the book. Rule Number 78, do not let female tribute go crazy before being fed to the jaws of the arena. Will you let me in?"

Ayn stayed silent and wiped the tears from her eyes. Whether they were from anger or anguish, she didn't know. She didn't want to talk with anyone at the moment.

"If you don't let me in, I'll just keep talking to you through the door. I might not seem very talkative, but trust me, I have many, many stories. In fact, just the other day – "

"Hi, Nelson."

The door was opened a crack.

"Hi, sweetness. May I come in?"

"Do I have choice?"

"Right you are, you have no choice. Thank you."

He stepped inside and closed the door behind him. Then, he sat on the bed next to Ayn. She mustered the bravery to meet his eyes and started. His eyes were brown! They weren't blank!

He tapped the side of his head. "I wear contacts."

Contacts? He explained they were pieces of glass that could alter your eye color.

"I never like surgery, see? Peer pressure from the community, though, and this was the compromise. _Heavily _in my favor, I might like to note. I only have to wear them in public."

"Nelson, um, what are you doing here?"

"Yes, of course. I'm not here to give you a rundown on Capitol fashions. Why do you hate Gorgeous?"

"And this concerns me going crazy?"

"Yes, your abhorrence seems to easily have the ability to deteriorate into madness."

"Am I that easy to read?"

"Yes, you are, sweetness. Unlike Gorgeous, you are not a natural born actress. Your hate is quite palpable."

She looked at her hands. "I don't like to talk about it."

"Not to burst your bubble or anything, but you might not have to. Ever."

Reality hit back full force again. She was a tribute. Nelson was right.

Ayn asked, "Do I have a choice?"

"Spit it out, sweetness."

"It's a long story."

"All the better, we humans live abrupt lives."

Ayn couldn't help but feel he used the word _abrupt _for her. Except for Tala, she'd never told anyone her story before. It was strange, what the prospect of death made you do. She began her story, "Before, in school, I didn't have friends. I looked different, but that was alright. I was just invisible.

"When I was twelve, I was sitting beneath a tree. Reading this book. Suddenly, I felt something hit my head. Someone helped me up and he was holding the football that had hit me."

"Gorgeous?" Nelson clarified.

"Yes, it was Gorgeous. He said something, I don't remember, but I think it was an apology. Before I could reply, he ran back to his friends on the field. He laughed and said something to them.

"After that, people from all around the school started noticing me. They were bullying me, calling me names. School was a _torture_. I thought about…" Ayn sighed and took a deep breath. It wasn't a memory she liked to dwell upon. "There were so many times when I thought about ending my life. I don't think I ever seriously considered it, but I had the idea nonetheless. Then, two years later, I met Tala."

Nelson nodded. "The girl you volunteered for."

"Yes. Anyways, Tala helped me through school and I learned to ignore them all."

"Tala saved your life," Nelson said, when he saw Ayn was finished.

Ayn nodded.

"And all of this. It's Gorgeous' fault."

"I have no idea what he said to his friends, but no one had talked to me before. It couldn't have been a coincidence that one person talks to me and suddenly the whole school is against me. Sometimes, they'll be saying stuff about me and Gorgeous is just watching. Lets them call me a…a muttation."

Nelson rubbed his forehead, deep in thought and then finally said, "He's never actually personally bullied you for being an albino, though."

"Well, no, not actually. Now that you say that. Sometimes he'll be sarcastic, but he's probably like that to everybody."

He stood up from the bed and started pacing back and forth. After about a minute, he paused and turned to me. "Ayn, I have a theory I'd like to tell you."

Ayn looked up at him. "Yes?"

He came back and sat by her. "I don't know if it's just me, but Gorgeous seems like a pretty, well, normal guy."

"Yes, a normal, beautiful, self-centered – "

"Ayn."

"Sorry, continue."

"Just follow me for a moment. You're accidently hit by this football and Gorgeous comes over. He apologizes. You're still in a daze. He goes back. If you were him, what would you say?"

"Hey bros, I got the ball?"

"Well, sure. But if his friends asked about you, I would think he'd say that you didn't say anything. His friends, as they seem to be worshippers, probably take this the wrong way. I'm guessing Gorgeous is popular from the way everybody acted from the Reaping. They come to push you around, make you feel bad for ignoring him."

"Well, that doesn't make sense," Ayn argued. "It'd only be a few of them."

"Yes, but see, humans aren't a great race. You were invisible before, but Gorgeous pointed you out, made you visible. You get bullied by a few. Others see your albinism. More bully you. Hey, she's different. _More _bullies. It's a popular sport and soon everybody is against you."

Ayn replied carefully, "I mean, that's one possibility, but you have no way of knowing if that's what happened."

"Think about it rationally, Ayn. Everybody loves Gorgeous. If he really told everybody, I don't know, to go after you, wouldn't that ruin his reputation?"

She took a breath and then replied, "Yes."

"You were a victim of terrible fate, Ayn, there's no doubt about that. But I think Gorgeous was too."

"Then, why…why does he let it happen? He's always just watching." She wiped away at her tears with a jerk, upset that she was getting so emotional.

"There's an easy one. Peer pressure. The bullying scared him, he didn't want to get involved and get bullied too."

"Oh no," Ayn said, clasping her hands over her mouth. She shut her eyes. Her entire life, she'd attributed everything to Gorgeous. It wasn't him. It wasn't him. It was never him and yet she spited him. Ignored him. Attacked him for something he hadn't done.

"You get bullied. I get contacts. Peer pressure's a *****, huh?"

"Nelson!"

"Hey, no cameras," he said with a smile. Then, he sobered. "He'll forgive you. He seems like the forgiving type."

"No, it's better this way," Ayn said with a hollow voice. "It'll make it easier for him to kill me when the time comes."

"Ayn, you can't be serious!" Nelson said, shocked.

"I don't have a chance," she said. "You can't tell me you believe otherwise."

"Oh, but I do," he said. "Have you thought of allies, sweetness?"

She stared at him.

His brown eyes smiled. "It's my job to keep you two alive. That's rule number one in the book."

**Okay, I realized reading this again….**

**THERE IS WAY TOO MUCH DIALOGUE!**

**I bow down to beg forgiveness .**

**I will attempt to sober from my addiction to " " s. **

**Despite all the speech, I hope you liked **

**Message for the day: Don't bully people! It's mean :(**

**Come back next Friday!**


	8. Chapter 6: Ally

**So…I realized I made Ayn seem really temperamental so far xD**

**She just had a really big grudge vs. Gorgeous and that kind of fueled her anger…**

**Anyhoos, enjoy!**

**Chapter 6: Ally**

For the next few days, the tributes were given a chance at the Training Center to practice survival. For some, however, those days were all inane. No amount of training could help the incompetent win the Games. Gorgeous was not looking forward to the private session. He kept a lean physique by doing daily workouts but it was just for aesthetics. He had never touched a weapon in his life. His parents were so paranoid, even kitchen knives were off limit.

Dana stressed the importance of the training days to him. "You made a _huge _splash at the Training Center. So far, only District Two is holding a candle to you. It'll hurt if you vanish behind their scores and their scores _will _be good. Also, it's not just for popularity. You don't look like you've spend a day in the forest. Focus on survival techniques now. Until you learn how to get food in ten different ways, you are not allowed to touch the man-hunting weapons."

_Man-hunting. _She said it so casually.

Even though Dana was pleased Gorgeous had done so well during the chariot rides, her exuberance collapsed like a sinkhole when she learned he was allying with Ayn. Gorgeous himself wasn't sure what had happened. Nelson had suddenly appeared behind him in breakfast and told him the news.

That was it.

Gorgeous wasn't upset, though, and thankfully, Ayn seemed to be acting kinder. As they travelled from station to station, they helped each other with difficulties. Not that they were much help to each other. It turned out that Ayn was just as rotten as snares as Gorgeous was. He was working on a particularly lethal snare that snapped the neck of its prey. The finish product looked like a baby crib.

The snares instructor asked, "How is Deathly Deprivation working?"

Ayn looked at her rat's nest of madness and then at Gorgeous's. "Not very "deathly". Gorgeous has an adorable executioner, though."

"An adorable, _deathly _device. It'll, um, rock squirrels to sleep."

A piece of wood popped out of place and the crib fell to pieces.

"Need help?"

The two of them spun around to see a handsome, gray-eyed tribute. He tucked a stray strand of silver-blonde hair behind his ear and peered closer at their creations. Ayn looked bewildered but Gorgeous recognized him from the Reaping rerun. Jack Kale. He was the quiet boy from District Two. Why was a Career offering help?

The Career chuckled suddenly. "Laurel! Why are you teaching them this?" He looked back to them. His voice was soft, as if he was telling them a secret. "This is an extremely difficult snare."

"They all looked the same to us," Gorgeous replied honestly.

With adroit movements, Jack's hands quickly assembled a seemingly simple creation. He tossed a rock and the snare snapped up in response.

"Easy enough?" he implored.

Gorgeous and Ayn nodded wordlessly.

"Fast learners. Gorgeous, crazy chariot outfit, by the way." Then, he gave them a smile and left.

Ayn's voice swiftly returned to her. She demanded, "Who was that?"

"District Two, Jack Kale. I remember from the Reaping."

"Good memory. Why is he helping us?"

"I don't know," Gorgeous said, looking after the Career. "Give me a second, I'll be right back."

He knew Dana would be upset with him, but he headed towards the weapons station.

At the weapons station, he flung a knife at the mannequin target. It stuck in the beams above. He fervently apologized to the instructor and looked for a chair to pull over. There were none. Gorgeous guessed the Gamemakers didn't want to encourage indolence from the tributes.

"Need help?"

This time Gorgeous answered without turning. "Thanks."

Jack deftly leapt on a table laid out with weapons. They barely rattled. He pushed off, grabbed onto the ceiling beam with one hand, pulled out the knife, and lightly landed on the ground. He held out the knife by the flat of the blade.

Gorgeous nodded and took the knife. Standing in front of him, Gorgeous realized Jack was even taller than he had initially thought. Gorgeous was already tall but Jack was a clear half a foot taller.

Jack retrieved a knife of the same model and flipped it once. Jack talked slowly and deliberately with a rare easiness. It was the same quietness Gorgeous remembered from the reaping. "Knife throwing takes some practice, but it's just some simple principles."

He adjusted Gorgeous's grip on the knife and then indicated the target.

"Don't aim for the head. The chest is a much larger target and even if you don't hit the heart, you'll probably hit something vital." It was strange hearing something so violent explained so calmly and quietly. Jack twirled the knife around. "It's all in the wrist." Without hesitation, he lodged the knife in the heart of the mannequin.

"That was…enlightening." Gorgeous furrowed his eyebrows and hurled the knife again. It flipped far past the mannequin. He shrugged. At least its path was near the mannequin, not meters away.

Jack chuckled softly. "You're going to throw out your back if you keep throwing like that." He lifted a large ax easily and impaled the mannequin's head. "Less shoulder, more wrist."

Gorgeous smiled, if not uneasily. "Is it Jack?"

"Yes, Jack Kale. You're Gorgeous…T-something?"

"Gorgeous Tellins, yeah. Nice to meet you."

"You too."

Gorgeous walked over to pick up another knife. Then, he asked, "Why are you helping me?"

"Why not?" he asked.

"Well…you're kind of stacking the odds against yourself. You know, killing each other in a few days and all."

"Oh," Jack said, as if he'd completely forgotten about the Games. He picked up three knives between his fingers and flung them at the target. They all stuck in the mannequin's chest. "I hadn't thought of that."

Jack began twirling a knife between his fingers. "I guess, for me, the Games doesn't start until I'm in the Arena. Sure, making a good impression on the sponsors is important, but it doesn't feel real, you know? Even now," he balanced the knife tip on his finger, "with all these weapons, I don't see anyone as my enemy. Environment has to be right, I guess. It's a bad reason, I know."

"Have you thought of any allies?" Gorgeous's next knife landed by the foot of the mannequin.

"Hey, good throw," Jack acknowledged. "I'm allying with the rest of the Initials. It's customary for District 2"

"Initials? Is that what you call One, Two, and Four?" Gorgeous asked. His next knife made a high arc and landed about halfway from the target. Jack moved Gorgeous's arm into the right angle.

"Sure, you call us something else?"

"Yeah, Careers."

Jack smiled. "I kinda like that."

"How about another ally? You don't have to let the rest of the…Initials know."

"I'm helping you out here, but it's going to be different in the Arena. Sorry, Gorgeous, but I don't think I want you as a burden on my shoulders during the Games."

"Fair enough," Gorgeous said. He moved onto his main point. "If you ally with my…friend though, I can compensate."

Jack's feathery silver lashes fluttered in a puzzled blink. "Wait a moment, not an alliance with you?"

"No, with Ayn."

"The albino girl?"

"Yes."

"Am I allowed to ask why?"

Gorgeous looked behind his shoulder. Ayn was far off at another station. "She doesn't have much of a chance to win," he said truthfully. "I want to protect her chances as much as I can. As I said before, I'll hold up a part of the bargain."

Jack looked doubtful but ventured further. "What?"

"I'm skilled in the art of rhetoric. I guarantee that if you help Ayn in the arena, I can get you sponsors."

Jack's eyebrows raised in curiosity. "How many?"

Popular tributes usually had about ten major sponsors. "Four," Gorgeous stated, "at least."

Jack noted Gorgeous's confidence in his estimate. He had been wary about the interviews. He had no doubt in his physical prowess but he wasn't charismatic. He wouldn't need to worry about impressing sponsors. After some pondering, he shrugged. "How about this: I'll ask my escort how many sponsors I have. If I have three more before the Games, I'll ally with the girl _and_ you."

"Thank you," Gorgeous said, quietly sighing with relief.

"It's all a game, Tellins," he said in his quiet composure. "I just hope you don't die gruesomely."

Gorgeous threw another knife. This time, it lodged in the dummy's arm.

"Good job," Jack praised.

"All you, Jack," Gorgeous said. "Um, are you going to tell the rest of the Careers?"

"Oh, about that. They really want to kill you. Probably want to kill me for talking to you."

"That's fantastic."

"Hey, thought I'd let you know."

"Thanks, actually, for telling me."

"Nothing to it."

Gorgeous turned to leave and then paused. "Ayn might try to kill you, though."

"I'm protecting a girl that's going to kill me?" There was another quiet smile from him.

"That's right."

His pale gray eyes twinkled. "That's fine. Have a good interview, Tellins."

"You too, Jack."

That night, Gorgeous hunted down Nelson.

"You have to get Jack some sponsors."

"What?!" Nelson's response was incredulous. "Jack? Jack Kale? District 2? No way! 1, 2, and 4 are our biggest competition!"

"Wait, hear me out," Gorgeous pleaded.

Nelson rolled his eyes. "No need to puppy-eye me, Gorgeous. I'll listen."

Not wasting a second, Gorgeous told Nelson about Jack. About their deal. Nelson listened intently to every word. By the end, Nelson was on his feet and pacing.

"He'll protect Ayn?" Nelson asked.

"Well, not necessarily. He won't hurt her though, I know that. He's honest."

"Honest?" Another incredulous remark from Nelson.

"I can just _tell_, Nelson. I'm good at reading people."

"You want me to waste time taking possible sponsors away from District 7? We'd lose millions of dollars!" Nelson asked.

"Not _waste_, Nelson. And you said so yourself, the Careers are our biggest threat. Why not have one on our side?"

"All because of a hunch you have," Nelson muttered. He walked over to the wall length window and gazed at the people partying under the moonlight. Shaking his head, he came back to Gorgeous. "I'll trust you."

Gorgeous's eyes lit up. "So you'll do it?!"

Nelson nodded wearily. "But believe me, if he makes a single move against Ayn during the Games, I'm sending an electrically charged parachute to kill you myself."

"And not me?"

"If someone like him goes after you," he shook his head, "I won't have to."

It was the second day of training and the morning session was over. Ayn sat at the same table with Gorgeous, picking at what seemed like a delicious lunch. She realized he was doing the same, avoiding his food. She observed him make a tower out of his macaroni and cheese and then asked, "What are you going to do for the private session?"

Caught by surprise, Gorgeous emitted a sort of choked gasp that wasn't at all attractive. "Huh?"

How was he was so gregarious in front of the camera but so awkward behind?

"Private session? What are you doing?"

"Those are tomorrow." His voice was gloomy. He knocked over his noodle tower. He contemplated her question for a few seconds and then replied, "My incredible sword skills."

"You can show them your trophy."

"Ah, yes. That green hairdo I acquired."

"He was pretty upset."

"I didn't mean to!"

"What is Dana saying?" Ayn asked.

Gorgeous sighed. "She stopped talking to me. I look fit so she expected more from me. You, Ayn?"

Ayn shook her head. She had talked to her mentor about her predicament. Taryn had tried to mask her disappointment. A good impression on the private session tomorrow was impossible and Ayn just hoped she could squeeze past without a huge embarrassment. She hadn't imagined Gorgeous would also blunder in the private session, but it seemed like he would. Both of them had made some decent progress with snares, but it wasn't anything incredible. Gorgeous knew a few knife techniques at least. Ayn, unfortunately, couldn't even get a proper grip on a knife. Being an albino came with some other genetic defects. Her left hand had only three fingers and her right couldn't close into a fist.

Gorgeous had also impressively memorized all the edible flora in about half an hour. However, Ayn couldn't imagine the Gamemakers would be impressed with Gorgeous reciting plants. Gorgeous had said before that survival started the moment they rode into the Capitol City. If he was correct, Ayn was going to be dead before the Games even started.

"Hey, Ayn," Gorgeous suddenly said, "do you know rock, paper, scissors?"

"Yes?"

"Do you mind playing a few rounds with me?"

Utterly confused, she shrugged in agreement. She threw a rock. He had paper. She threw another rock. He had paper again. She switched to paper and he countered with scissors. They played another four hands and Gorgeous won every one.

Ayn was a little freaked out. "What are you, a rock, paper, scissors savant?"

He looked very thoughtful. "No, but I think I found a talent for my private session."

Intrigued, Ayn asked, "What are you going to show them?"

He returned her curious gaze thoughtfully. "Well, it's not really showing them anything. I'm just going to talk to them."

**Hehe I like Jack ^ ^**

**Anyhoos…hope you enjoyed!**

**Come back next Friday :P**


	9. Chapter 7: Suspicious Subsidy

**I'M SO SORRY!**

**Even though I did manage to post this chapter on Friday, it is about five minutes until Saturday…. D:**

**This chapter is also unacceptably short. **

**I was completely confuzzled with how to write the private session and just procrastinated for a million years D:**

**Well….I should finish this quickly before it's 12:00**

**I'm super sorry if there are any grammatical errors because there's no time to check O.o**

**Chapter 7: Suspicious Subsidy**

The day of private sessions had finally arrived. Obviously he was worried, but it was no time for Nelson to be nervous for his tributes. While the tributes were off at their last day of training, Nelson had to snag some sponsors. While it was Dana and Taryn's job to verify sponsorships, he was ultimately the spokesperson for District Seven. Years past, he would have spent the day sleeping in, but this Hunger Games was different.

Mainly, the tributes. Nelson found that he was becoming much more attached to the tributes than he wanted to. In all of the other years of being an escort, he had always been able to distance himself from the tributes. Build a wall. He carried a deep hatred for the Games and despite himself, he carried that hatred to his tributes. Regardless of how heartless it was, it was Nelson's way of rebelling. If he didn't care for his tributes, he was somehow defying the Games. He wasn't proud of it, but what did it matter? Even if he did prepare his tributes, twenty two children would still die.

Ayn and Gorgeous were different, however. Their stories struck too close to home. An albino aberration used anger to hide from people, the mirror. A dazzling profile was reinforced by charismatic semblance to create the perfect mask. Nelson, like the albino, was an aberration and, like Gorgeous, was forced by his parents to wear a mask. Well, he shouldn't be arrogant now. Nelson's situation was more fortunate than Ayn's and Gorgeous' by far. A few people resented him, but didn't regard him as a muttation. His family had forced him to be an escort, but he didn't need to forge a fake personality.

Besides the weepy, sentimental stuff, Nelson also had to get sponsors for a _different _district. What sort of escort did that? While he adored the lovable bastard, it was really an unreasonable request. He couldn't help it. Gorgeous said it was for Ayn and Nelson was doing his best to protect her. When she got in the arena, he wouldn't be able to do anything. That terrified him.

While Nelson was heading out to a sponsor dinner, his pocket buzzed and beeped. A sponsor already? He took his mevtrei out from his pocket. Nelson eyebrows leapt at the new sponsor donation flashing on the screen. He tapped the screen to make sure it wasn't a digital error. A ten million dollars. He wasn't hallucinating.

For Nelson, his first reaction wasn't utter excitement and joy. Doubtful, he traced the transaction of the donation. With a few hacks and technical tricks, he found a jumble of a decoded mess. It was way too complicated to be a simple sponsor transaction.

He dialed a number in his mevtrei.

"Yes, I'd like to speak to President Snow."

"What business do you have with the President." The feminine mechanical warble was more of a statement than a question.

"It regards my tributes in the Games."

"Reason."

"Code ERC-67." Escorts had a law book that listed certain priorities. Nelson had memorized the book to quickly utilize his priorities without the hassle of documents and signatures. Not willingly. Before his untimely death, his father had forced him to. It did come in handy at times. Certain numbers and phrases instantly activated framework within the president's security.

"There an open slot in three days time."

Nelson rolled his eyes and shut his phone. He navigated his mevtrei. There were also some things outside of protocol he knew. After a few experimental touches, he nonchalantly slipped it back into his pocket.

"Sorry, Secretary Gaston," he muttered to himself. "You'll have to discuss renovations on the Capitol building some other time. He headed out to have a conference with the President. He sent Dana a message to take of the sponsorship dinner. H knew she would have his head when he returned.

**Dear demigods, this is short ;_;**

**Come back next Friday? I'll try really hard to have a good-sized chapter!**

**(FYI: this is really far into the future, so ten million dollars is equal to somewhere around 1 million of today's money :/ Maybe less)**


	10. Chapter 8: Perfect

**So…uh, crap. **

**This chapter is short.**

**It's Saturday.**

**D:**

**I know this chapter was posted late and I have more bad news…**

**School is starting.**

**NO!**

**Well, this means that Friday won't be the posting date anymore. **

**I'm changing it to Sunday and I'm not so certain that I'll post every week. **

**I am definitely finishing this story, but with school starting, it might not be regularly. **

**Chapter 8: Perfect**

Night had fallen and the Capital lights seemed even brighter against the black sky. Ayn's private session was a flop – as she had expected. Building snares would've been a better decision than the knife dropping fiasco she displayed. Strangely, she wasn't even nervous. It seemed that after the chariot ride, she was becoming more used to seeing herself on the television screen.

Gorgeous was acting strangely that night. He kept avoiding the topic of his private session. The television reveal of their scores was finally rolling and Ayn was more than curious about how Gorgeous did.

Something else strange – Dana and Nelson wasn't with them. Taryn didn't have a clue as to where they were. Ayn was disappointed that Nelson wasn't there with them, but she focused on the screen.

The Careers naturally had high scores – eights and nines. Jack, Gorgeous' blonde friend, pulled a ten. Ayn wasn't surprised, he was definitely the highest score of the night. District Seven's textile emblem spun on the screen. Then –

An eleven.

Ayn's eyes flew open. She didn't even bother to wait for her own score. "Gorgeous, what did you-?"

"Come with me," Gorgeous said, suddenly standing up.

There was a large balcony on their floor of the Tribute Building. The cool air enveloped her as Gorgeous led her outside.

"How did you get that score?" Ayn asked. She was still in astonishment.

"I didn't!" Gorgeous exclaimed. His expression was completely distraught.

Ayn was completely puzzled. "You didn't? What do you mean?"

"I didn't do _anything_. I don't have any redeeming physical skill and in the private session, I just talked with them!"

"Wait, some psychological mumbo where you read their minds?" Ayn said, thinking about their rock, paper, scissors game.

"I was going to," Gorgeous said, rubbing his forehead. "I mean, not read their minds, but something like that. When I got in there, though, I was just too nervous."

"Nervous?"

He chuckled, which calmed Ayn a little. He was seriously worrying her with how distressed he was.

"Yes, it's possible for the Great Gorgeous to be nervous. In the end, I just resorted to sweet talking them. I was hoping I could charm them into giving me a slightly better score."

Ayn let this process through her mind. "You didn't do anything?"

He didn't say anything.

"And you got an eleven?"

He shut his eyes and took a deep breath. "Something weird is going on, Ayn. I don't know what it is."

"Who are you here to see?" the crimson haired assistant asked.

"I have an appointment with President Snow," Nelson said.

"Of course," she said. She gestured at the glass chairs next to the tank downloaded with simulations of tropical fish. "It'll only be a few minutes."

Nelson sat with a thump and gazed at the television screen. The scores of the private sessions were finally being released.

"Gorgeous Tellins," the male announcer said in monotone. "Eleven."

An eleven? Nelson grabbed his mevtrei and flipped to the transaction. His mevtrei started ringing in his hand. It was Dana.

"Nelson, why on earth did you leave me with the sponsors?" Dana's was clearly annoyed with him.

"Dana, there's something wrong-"

"Something over here is wrong, too," Dana said.

"Were you not able to get sponsors?"

"The opposite. I barely had to talk to them. Even after your stupid request of chasing away some of them to District Two, District Seven got sixteen sponsors."

The most popular tributes usually had ten tributes. Nelson had a sinking feeling in his gut. He'd seen the same thing happen before. The 65th Hunger Games.

The crimson haired assistant called over to Nelson that President Snow was ready for him.

"I have to leave, Dana," Nelson said and hung up.

He already knew what he was going to say. The meeting wasn't going to be long. The glass doors swung open as Nelson stepped into the President's room.

"If it isn't Nelson Harris," the white-haired man said with a stretched white smile. "I knew your father."

"President Snow," Nelson greeted humorlessly. The President was clearly trying to unnerve him through the mention of his father. Nelson was focused and it wasn't going to work. He held up his mevtrei, the ten million donation on the screen. "In this Games, Gorgeous Tellins is protecting Ayn Oris. That is his sole purpose. Do you understand?"

The president's smile dropped like a stone.

Nelson nodded. "So you do. Thank you for your time, President Snow."

"Your father would be disappointed, Mr. Harris."

Nelson barely smiled. "You don't need to tell me, President Snow. I _know _he would be."

He walked from the room. Gorgeous and Ayn had no idea about what was going on. He had to make sure that for Ayn, it stayed that way.

**So…hope you enjoyed?**

**My mind was kind of fried when I wrote this chapter DX**

**So I hope it made a little bit of sense…**

**Anyhoos… O.o**

**Come back next Sunday?**


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